A Study in Scarlet Panties
by sherlollymouse
Summary: Accidents happen. We all do stupid things. Loosely based on a situation poor Donna got herself into the West Wing episode 'The Leadership Breakfast'


Molly had been helping Sherlock for several hours into the early morning and now it was time for sleep. She simply couldn't keep her eyes open any more and she was growing stiff from having sat in the same position on the sofa for so long.

Standing up, she stretched and shook a leg lazily before walking over to the kitchen where her host (to use that phrase loosely) was messing with something 'very important' in the kitchen.

"I'm going home, Sherlock." The man simply hummed a response as she grabbed her coat and pulled it on. "See you later." Another hum, he obviously wasn't paying attention.

As she took a big breath of chilly, London morning air and hailed a taxi, she paid one last glance up at the flat, hoping maybe he was watching. Of course, he wasn't.

After another hour, he shot off a text to Lestrade and shuffled into the sitting room; Molly had left the light on. Making his way to the switch, he paused. A clump of red fabric had grabbed his attention. Bunched up on the floor, laying in a heap. Cautiously, he approached it and picked it up with equal consideration.

Panties. Very sexy panties, actually. They were red and lacy with an attached garter belt… recently worn…

Very nice. But, where…. Molly. These were Molly's.

There were several ways he could return them to her, he thought, but which would be best… should avoid any possibility of embarrassing her… their relationship had been a bit delicate since his return and he really didn't want to rock that boat… could end badly for him… for the life of him, though, he wasn't sure which of the scenarios in his mind would be the least embarrassing for her.

Obviously, they'd stuck to the inside of her trousers… she had clearly worn those more than once, being practical as she was. Must have broken its bond while she was shuffling around earlier. Either way, it wasn't like this was sorted at all… and it was him, they were friends, she shouldn't really be that embarrassed, but still… Finally decided on an option, he took a bath and a nap and threw them in with his own washing later that day. Mrs. Hudson wasn't his housekeeper, after all.

Molly hadn't heard from or seen Sherlock all day, it's not like she was worried, but she was hoping he'd text her something. For the most part, he'd been better at being polite since his return and it was nice, but it still wasn't frequent. It was late and after a night of working with Sherlock, only a brief nap and a full day of working, she was, once again, exhausted. As soon as she walked into her flat, her foot hit something and it skidded across the floor, it stopped when it hit the wall underneath her couch. With a grumble, she took off her coat and moved the piece of furniture to retrieve a small manila envelope.

Not thinking too much of it, she plopped it on the kitchen table and made herself some tea before opening it up, but once she did, she found herself rushing off to Baker Street.

"Sherlock," She leaned into the sitting room breathless. "Someone broke into my flat. I need you to check it for me."

"Who would break into your flat?" He began questioning her, but he still grabbed his belstaff and pulled it on with a great display of flair; making a big sweeping motion with it that allowed his trademark coat to flutter. She brushed off all his questions and just insisted he come, not that he was arguing, but she had no answers. "What did they take?"

"Its… private and anyway, they returned it."

"They nicked something and returned it?"

"Yes, listen, it doesn't really matter, I just want to make sure they don't get back in, alright?"

After several hours, two trips to a store that was open all hours and attempting to install different locks and things to the doors and windows, Molly felt she could finally breath.

"It's good now?"

"Yes, its fine, Molly. Shouldn't keep you up anymore."

"Good. Just the thought of that pervert in here touching things… gives me the creeps." She shuddered.

"Pervert?" Biting her lip and hugging herself, she glanced down at the floor and handed him the envelope.

"They stole a pair of knickers and, then returned it… like I'd want it back. God knows what they did with them, they've obviously been cleaned."

"This is what had you so upset?" Sherlock, once again, found himself holding Molly's red panties.

"Well, yeah! Who does that?"

"Would it make you feel better to know it wasn't an intruder?"

"What do you mean?" He didn't respond at first, he closed his eyes and sighed. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. "We can't all deduce as well as you, Sherlock." When he opened them, he saw her, hands on hips, looking quite annoyed with him.

"Its nothing I deduced, Molly… this was me." He held the underwear and envelope up as if he were presenting them.

"What?" The pathologist jumped back like she had been shot at and starred at him in absolute horror. "What on earth is wrong with you?!"

"I didn't break into your flat and steal them!" Rarely had he ever heard himself sound so panicked as he defended himself for being in possession of Molly Hoopers red panties. He took a breath and spoke more calmly. "Look, you wore the same pair of trousers two days in a row, these were stuck in the leg. They fell out in my flat… thats all, Molly." Great, she looked mortified. This was going well.

"They fell out in your flat?" He hoped she was ok, she appeared a bit pale.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"The sitting room." With a nod, she closed her eyes and took a breath. As she exhaled, lips pursed, releasing a whooshing sound, the color came back to her face.

"Why did you just leave them in an unmarked envelope, though?"

"I wanted to avoid…" He gestured wildly to the empty space between with a tight, crooked smile. "this."

And she laughed. Curling over to grab her knees with one hand and fondling around behind her for a kitchen chair with the other. Once she was seated she looked up at him, still in the midst of her laughing fit. "What?" He demanded, only bringing water to her eyes, she was crying out so loudly. "What?!"

"Nothing… just…" She composed herself to finish her sentence. "It's kind of cute of you and so… so stupid…" So much control over her giggles forced her to snort. "Its so out of character for you, thats all." The sleeve of the jumper she was wearing was now damp from the tears she wiped from her face. Maybe if she hadn't been so tired, she might of thought of that possibility herself or at least wouldn't have a wet, red face right now.

"Well… umm… what should I have done, then?" The inquiry was serious, but as silence fell over the kitchen, she realized he had been in a lose/lose situation.

"Honestly, Sherlock, I'm not certain there is a right way to return a friends underwear." Her reply was just as serious as their expressions were stoic, though both had a bit colored by now.

"Right. Thats not something theres a social protocol for or anything, I didn't think. But, uh… can't say I've been in this situation before." Trying to relieve what he perceived to be tension or awkwardness, he playfully smiled and tossed her her red panties.

"Thanks, Sherlock." She gave him a pat on the shoulder and led him out before heading to bed, where she giggled herself to sleep.


End file.
